


Phantasm

by pennflinn



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt Barry, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, One Shot, Real Jay Garrick for the record, Team Dynamics, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-22 01:26:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9575768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennflinn/pseuds/pennflinn
Summary: Jay Garrick wears the face of a dead man. He's never forgotten that, and he doubts he ever will, not when he keeps getting drawn back to the earth he doesn't belong to, the people he doesn't belong with. The man they see in his face has been dead for four months.He is not Henry Allen. But sometimes, in the haze of fever, Barry needs him to be.





	

**Author's Note:**

> "I hope you're ready for some Jay Garrick angst" - a sentence I never thought I would say.
> 
> Inspired by this tumblr post: https://theopensea.tumblr.com/post/154309981900/listendo-you-think-that-at-some-point-some-late
> 
> Enjoy!

Jay has never had a family. Not like this, at least. He has his private life, of course, he has his Joan—but with nothing but a wide-brimmed helmet separating his face from the outside world, his public persona _is_ his private persona, and it's a dangerous one. Maybe that's why Zoom covered his face with an iron mask for a year. Strip away the features of the most recognizable man in Central City and strip away the identity he'd worked so hard to cultivate.

He recognizes the dangers of a bared face, so he has forgone the luxuries of a family like he sees on Earth Prime. When he gets injured, he stands alone. He stitches himself up. He prays to escape death just once more. So it's a foreign sight to him here: the frantic phone calls, the bustling through the cortex as half a dozen people come together to save their Flash's life.

Despite his powers, he feels strangely helpless standing there off to the side. Barry has been writhing on an exam bed for upwards of an hour now: has been since Jay sped him here in a panic after a fight with a particularly-nasty meta. The cut where the meta's poison entered the young speedster's body isn't even unusually large, just a nick on the side of his neck, but it continues to ooze blood. Funny that such a miniscule wound can do so much damage. The poison's like a fever, burning him up from the inside out.

"The serum seems to be taking some effect," Caitlin says, although it hardly seems possible. She wipes her forehead with her arm, her gloved hands remarkably steady. Jay hasn't spent much time here on this earth, but he knows how all of these faces in the cortex react in a crisis—and Caitlin Snow is steady in her panic. "He should be coming down from the fever. All we can do now is wait, I'm afraid."

"Wait? Like 'dis?" Cisco said, pinching his still-bleeding nose. In the throes of the fever, Barry's flailing arm had caught him hard in the face, but he looks more terrified than offended. He motions at his friend, who is still moaning and sweating enough to dampen the hospital pillow.

"I've done all I can, unfortunately," Caitlin says. "We just need to keep him cool and hydrated. Thanks for bringing him back, Jay."

Jay nods absently. "Of course."

Attention shifts from him as quickly as it arrived. He shouldn't be surprised; they all have their rituals of comfort, their post-battle positions. Iris shifts the ice packs on Barry's bare chest, and Cisco refreshes the wet towel on his forehead, spattering blood as he goes. Caitlin is in charge of the monitors, watching the levels hawkishly.

After a minute or so of this quiet aftermath, Barry groans, his eyes flutter. He squirms, and Caitlin struggles to keep him down.

"Shh, Barry," she says with equal measures control and care. "You're safe. You're at STAR. It's okay."

The slits of Barry's eyes that are visible are hazy, searching, uncomprehending of the pain he finds himself in.

"Shh," Caitlin keeps repeating, now rubbing soothing circles on the inside of his wrist in an attempt to keep him calm. "It's alright now. Try to rest."

"I should go," Jay says, more to himself than anyone else, because he doesn't belong in this bubble, not really. He starts to slip away, ready to patrol the streets of this earth that isn't his, to clean up whatever mess they left downtown, when:

"Dad?"

Jay is paralyzed.

With a buzz in his ears, he swivels on the spot to find Barry staring at him through half-lidded eyes.

Cisco and Iris' gazes slide Jay's way, and Caitlin has similarly frozen on the spot.

"The pain and the fever," she explains. "He's not thinking straight. Barry, please, just—"

"Dad," Barry says again. "Don' go. Please, Dad. Hurts."

Jay stares and stares. He considers. He steps forward. Iris stiffens, nervous.

"I'll stay with him," Jay says at last. "You all go home and get some sleep. You need it."

"Jay," Iris says in a hushed voice, reaching for his arm. "You don't have to do this. It's okay. We can handle it."

"Go," Jay insists. He raises his eyebrows, turns to Caitlin. "I'll monitor his vitals and call you if anything changes."

Caitlin bites her lip. He can't tell if she's nervous because she doesn't trust him with Barry's life, or because she doesn't trust him with Barry's sanity.

"I'll be downstairs," she says. "Not too far, okay?"

"I promise I'll call."

His affirmation seems to be enough. Reluctantly, the STAR Labs family files out of the cortex. Jay watches them leave and wonders at their measured patience, their simmering worry. They stick close to one another even in departure.

"D-dad."

The word draws Jay back into himself, and he rushes to the bedside where Barry twists feebly to escape the fever. Even the sight of Jay taking a seat at his bedside seems to calm the man—no, _boy_ , this Barry Allen is nothing more than a boy—and he stills.

"Dad? It hurts."

"I know." Jay scoots a chair closer and reaches for Barry's hand. The gesture feels less awkward once it is complete. "You're strong, though, right? You're a fighter."

"Mm." Barry stares dazedly at the ceiling, clearly battling for cognizance. "Make it go away."

"I'm sorry, I can't make it go away," Jay responds, squeezing Barry's hand in attempt to draw attention back. It works. Barry's eyes lock on his, clouded as they are. They are tinged with a strange intensity behind it all, a warmth. "But I'm here, alright? I'll, uh, always. Be here."

It's been four months since Henry Allen's life was ripped away. Since Jay arrived on this earth to faces that saw him as someone he wasn't. But he can't say any of that.

Barry breathes deep. He doesn't notice the stilted words, just searches Jay's face with the innocence of a child. His jerky motions are slowing. He is falling.

"Love you, dad," he says.

"I…love you, Barry," Jay says back. He knows it's what Barry needs to hear—but he also knows that Barry is lost to sleep even when he says, "I love you, son."

* * *

Jay wakes to sounds of life.

"—run some tests—"

"—told you, I feel fine—"

"Barry Allen—"

Jay's eyes slide open. He's stiff in the chair he fell asleep in. It's been a long time since he's done this. Fallen asleep in a chair. He never even changed out of his costume—careless.

"Morning," Barry says brightly, out of the hospital bed, the shirt of his uniform still hanging open and his face shiny with old sweat. Despite these details, he looks nothing short of chipper. "Man, how did you sleep like that?"

"You should _not_ be out of bed!" Caitlin's desperately trying to force him back onto the cot. "Your body has undergone massive amounts of stress in the past ten hours and you need to let it heal."

"Yeah," Cisco adds from the side. A bruise shadows one eye, and it somehow makes him look even more skeptical. "You did just get poisoned half to death."

"And now I'm hungry," Barry says, like it's the simplest thing in the world. "A little sore, maybe. But definitely hungry."

"Bartholomew Henry Allen," Caitlin says. "You get back up on that exam table for more tests or so help me—"

"Okay, okay!" Barry throws up his hands in fear, it seems, more than anything. Hopping back up on the bed, he says, "Whatever you say, _mom_ ," and rolls his eyes at Jay as if expecting him to be in on the joke.

Jay isn't. He stands, feeling the burn in his lower back.

"You're feeling better?" he asks.

"You all are making such a big deal of this," Barry says. "I'm fine! I heal fast." He flinches as Caitlin sticks a needle in his arm. "Ow."

"Do you not…" Jay swallows. "Do you not remember anything from last night?"

"Oh, I mean, it was pretty terrible while it lasted," Barry says. His smile fades, and he looks around confusedly. "Why? Did I miss something? Am I gonna die?"

Caitlin looks uncomfortably up at Jay, just the flicker of something like sympathy, before patting Barry's arm. "Maybe if you don't lie still. Otherwise, you're fine."

Iris is also staring at Jay; he can feel it like a burn. There's pity in it, he knows. Pity, which is a separating force stronger than any breach. Barry makes another offhanded comment about seeing the light. Cisco steps forward with a snarky retort. They fall back into step.

"I really should get going," Jay says, and this time nobody stops him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! If you enjoyed (or if you, like me, are surprised by your need for Jay Garrick angst), please consider leaving your thoughts below!
> 
> Till next time,
> 
> Penn


End file.
